


they are changing our names in the sky

by saekhwa



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Gen, In which Mick sits by himself and thinks a lot about the past, Queer Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-08 23:13:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6878704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saekhwa/pseuds/saekhwa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mick reflects on Snart and what being a hero really means.</p>
            </blockquote>





	they are changing our names in the sky

**Author's Note:**

> Episode 1.15 "Destiny" was _amazing_ but also left me with a lot of goddamn feelings. So here are some of them. Spoilers ahoy. 
> 
> Title from the poem "The Bad Angels" by Stephen Dunn. A millionty thanks, as always, to Moriavis for beta'ing.

Didn't like to think, Mick had told Ray, but here he was, alone in the kitchen, thinking while he held Snart's ring. 

He thought about the induction chair. The first time he'd sat in it, he'd dropped into it on his own, gripped the arms, and said, "Shut up and get on with it."

He'd known it would hurt. Change like that always did. But he hadn't needed much convincing to sign up when the Time Masters had promised to send him back into the field. 

"You'll have purpose," they'd said. 

All Mick had wanted was revenge. 

Mick never told Snart about the machine, what it did or how it felt. No point to it. None of 'em could've changed it while the Time Masters had the Oculus. And Snart had never been the type to ask. Leaning on whatever surface was available, he just stared at Mick, tracking Mick across the room. Maybe he'd known Mick was pretending, trying to wear the old version of himself like a bad coat. 

He was Mick Rory or Heat Wave, but some of the changes from the induction chair had stuck. Changed the way he walked, the way he measured a room, the way he looked at every single person on the ship and assessed. 

The induction chair, at first, had felt like a thousand needles driving into Mick's skull. Never thought it would end. When it did, it just turned into a feeling of someone taking a spoon to his brain to dig it out. Uneven chunks that split his memories in half, screwing up the order of things. When that ended, all that followed was getting melted into a mess of nothin'.

Turning him into Chronos — yeah, it had been painful. But pain was pain. Time Masters hadn't been the first to deliver it or to keep sending Mick the same message lifetimes over lifetimes. What they hadn't known — or maybe they had, maybe they'd plotted the whole thing out — was that Mick had survived good ol' dad and the beatings in juvie and the beatings out in the streets until he'd toughened up. He'd survived the house fire and the screw up that'd given him his scars. He'd survived Snart leaving him out in the cold, stranded in time. 

Never had to worry about that as Chronos. It was a standard hazard of the job. It's why they worked alone, never had any attachments. Suited Mick just fine. He hadn't needed any help hunting down lowlife pirates or whoever else the Time Masters sent him after. 

Maybe that had been part of the induction procedure, too — working Mick so long and so hard he'd forget Snart's sneer. 

Then he'd boarded the Waverider and seen it, remembered more when he saw the beam of the cold gun reflected in Snart's goggles. It had only taken a second for Chronos to remember that he was Mick and for Mick to remember why he'd become one of the best damn hunters the Time Masters had. 

The only reason Snart and Rip had survived that day was 'cause of the rage lodged in Mick's throat — copper hot. The Time Masters had taken the fire, but they hadn't taken away the bitterness and hate. 

No. It'd been Snart, lying on the floor of the cell, bleeding from his nose and the corner of his mouth, taking in ragged breaths. 

The way he'd stared up at Mick when Mick had raised his fist, there'd been no fight left in him. No fight left in either of them. And while Mick had stared down at Snart, fist shaking in the air, he couldn't do it. He couldn't kill his partner, so he'd dropped his fist and rolled to the side while Snart talked, like he always did, looking for an angle where he could dig in. But what Snart had been looking for was the old Mick. 

Guess the Time Masters had been, too, when they'd taken Mick back to the induction chair. Declan had yammered on about how much better the process was. Only change was that it didn't hurt as much. It couldn't take away the memories of Snart as the little punk in juvie about to get shivved. Couldn't scrub out the first time Snart had said, "This is Lisa, my baby sister," and Lisa had rolled her eyes and said, "I'm not a baby anymore, Lenny." They couldn't take away the first score and how it'd all gone to shit but how Snart had held up his hand with this ring on it and said, "At least we got out of there with something," and Mick had said, "Yeah. Our lives."

Declan had said, "Your name." 

Maybe Mick was some dummy who couldn't think straight when a flame got too close, but Chronos had been shaped into someone smarter. That part of Mick knew he had to make Declan work for it, make him believe the Time Masters' procedure had worked. Just another con. Just another heist, but this time Mick was stealing back his life. 

So he'd waited and waited and then let, "Chronos," roll easy off his tongue while he stared straight ahead. 

When they'd suited him up, he'd thought about the team. Under the mask, it had been easy to grin when he'd heard the alarms sound. He'd gone to get Haircut, Rip, and Stein, but there was Snart and his sneer and the two of 'em facing off again. 

Snart hadn't had a pun handy, just said Mick's name with that raw edge like they were lost again. 

Mick shook his head and turned the ring. The light caught one of the diamonds but didn't shine anywhere Mick could see. 

He'd made a choice, back at the Oculus, to sacrifice himself. Never thought Snart would make the same choice, but he should've known. They'd both been changing since Rip gave his spiel on top of the roof. 

Mick turned the ring again but stared through the center of it, one eye shut. 

They were going to stop Savage. No room for doubts. It was how he'd succeeded as Chronos for so long. And what they had was a time ship. What they had was time to go back and stop Snart from making the dumbest decision of his life. They could wedge something in there to hold down the lever, maybe even use Snart's cold gun. 

Mick let the ring roll into his palm and closed his hand into a fist around it. 

He wasn't gonna leave his partner behind. Neither one of 'em needed to die to become heroes. They already were.


End file.
